It's National Dog Bite Prevention Week!

This week is National Dog Bite Prevention Week. I thought I'd use my canine soap box of a blog to help people learn ways to stay safe around strange or aggressive-acting dogs. When Mom was a little girl, she got bit by the neighbor's dog. She had to have stitches in her arm. The dog had been behaving badly toward a lot of people for a long time, and after he bit Mom he had to take, as Mom says, The Long Walk. I think that means someone killed him, which is probably ok with me - if someone bit my Mom now, I'D want to kill them!

 (And I could, too, because I am super-feral! GRR! I am also blowing coat, so the whole house, my blanket, and Mom and Dad's clothes are covered in loose hairy bits)

Anyway, Mom says that Grampa had told her to just stand still, and she was trying to, but the girl she was playing with started yelling and waving her arms at the dog to shoo him away. Mom got scared because the dog just started getting louder and angrier, and she started to run to the other girl's house. The dog knocked her down in the snow, and Mom covered her head and neck with her arms. The dog went crazy trying to get Mom's throat or neck. She felt the dog bite into her arm really hard, and then she says her arm felt cold. Then the dog went to her legs and started attacked them. The other little girl ran inside and got her mom. She got the dog to get off of MY mom and got her into the house. She had to go to the hospital, and then the doctor said that Nana and Grampa had to watch Mom for signs of rabies. Her snowsuit was ruined, too, and her legs were all scratched and bruised. Luckily she never did start foaming at the mouth, or I guess she would have been taking The Long Walk, too! Mom has developed a pathological fear of rabies as a result of this whole thing, but oddly she's not at all afraid of dogs. Mom's one tough cookie, I think.

Since Mom told me this story I've thought a lot about dogs and biting, and I hope you will take a few minutes to click on THIS LINK. It's all about a game you can play that is a great way to help kids stay safe around strange or angry-acting dogs. It's true that dogs are attracted to noise and movement. I know that when the baby chicks make noise, or the bunny hops in the yard, I go blind-mad with the instinct to kill. I barely hear Mom, and she's... well, she's MOM!

There's other things you can do to help kids -and yourself - stay safe around dogs.

Learn the right way to pet a dog. You can click on the link to learn more about hot to pet dogs, but the short version goes something like this:

First, always ask the owner or handler before touching a dog, no matter how friendly or cute the dog is. Second, let the dog sniff you first - offer us the back of your hand, below and in front of our nose. We'll do the rest. We don't like people just jumping in and assuming they're our BFF with lots of cuddly snuggly stuff. We want to know more about you first, and sniffing you is how we learn. Third, if we seem up for it and the owner says it's ok, pet us under my chin to start, not on the top of my head. If a dog acts dumb and growls, or flares it's lip at you slowly and calmly remove your hand. If the dog is on a leash, turn and walk slowly and calmly away.

You can also learn more about why picking on certain breeds with dumb laws isn't fair. Before I came here, Mom and Dad had Akitas. This made their house insurance very hard to get, and very expensive. But Kioshi never bit anyone. It didn't seem very fair to them, and it doesn't seem fair to me, either. I'm a Shiba, and according to the experts we're the closest genetic dog to the wolf. The dog that bit mom was a mixed breed. In fact, a lot of the time even people with lots of dog experience make mistakes, and label a dog with a breed that is doesn't belong to. The only way to know for sure is to test their DNA. Most dog bites are actually caused by mixed breeds or by small breeds - those little guys just don't have big enough teeth to make the news like a big dog does.

But now more about me - I am SO bored! Mom will not let me kill the baby chickens, which I think is dumb. She says I will like the meaty ones better if they grow longer, and the ones that make eggs are "off limits" until she does something she calls a cull, where most of the boys go into the freezer. She also put up a bird feeder right outside of the bedroom that causes my brain to explode from all the excitement. Birds and squirrels, all the time, on the bedroom Yoshivision!

I miss having a brother and do not like being alone. I sigh a lot. I want a brother or a sister that I can hike and walk with on the bike path; someone to steal my toys and someone I can flaunt my treats in front of. The cat doesn't care if I have a bone or not. The other day I had a whole turkey heart and no one even cared! Yesterday mom gave me a carrot stick, and there wasn't anyone to give it to. SO. BORED! Someone PLEASE find me a brand new brother or sister! Dad says we should wait six months. I think he's bonkers. I love Mom and Dad, but they're just not DOGS. They have each other. Why can't I have someone like me, too?

I Miss My Brother.

Boo is gone. He's not here any more. He was ten years and seven months old. Mom is kind of mopey and sad. Daddy seems better than she does on the outside, but I think he just lies better. I... I am tired. I am a lot quieter. I spent a lot of time making sure that mom knew whenever anything might threaten or scare Boo. Mom thought I was just being a bit of a twerp and making a ton of noise, but now she knows the truth.

Boo's Last Weeks

He got to the point where he just slept, or panted, or whined. That was mostly it for the last week. When mom and dad were in Virginia, about halfway through their trip, he got worse. Teach them to run off and play on the beach! Gerbil and Girl didn't tell them until they got home, but they knew it was almost time. He kept getting onto the slippery floor and then couldn't get up. His hips made crunching noises from his arthritis - mom called it "crepitus" which is a fancy way of saying "nasty crunching bone on bone sounds". His front legs were sore, and they shook a lot and he lapped them a lot, and that was really all he had to pull himself around with. He had an awful time on the stairs, and cried when he had to move very far. He was scared or sad or uncomfortable most of the time, but when they talked to him or pet him, he would try so hard to be happy. I felt bad for him sometimes, and other times I would try to MAKE him get up by racing around him in circles and yowling and shoving my head under his. Totally didn't work.

Boo with Daddy and Me Before He Got Worse Than "Not So Good"

When they got home, he didn't get better. They'd moved the circle of safety a couple of months ago, the rug Boo was on all the time, to make it as close to the water and the door as possible. They've been eating on the dining room table in the living room for a while now. It's reassuring to know that when I am old they will make all sorts of accommodation for me, I can tell you that! These people are serious soft touches! When they say forever home, they mean it.The worst was when on Friday morning when mom caught Mel swatting at him meanly, as if he was trying to "chase Boo onto the ice" as she said. I am not sure what that means, but since I am not a huge fan of ice on my feet I can make a guess. If you put me on ice, I'd just curl up and die. Mom said if she caught him again she'd put Mel on the ice. In defence of Mom, the cat was being really mean. Mom called our new vet, but they were booked and could not fit Boo in until Monday. They suggested we call our old vet, who'd known Boo since he was a baby. Mom called them, and they said it was no problem, and mom and dad could bring him down for 5pm on Friday. They did, and when they came back all they had was his collar and leash, which are under the table by where the circle of safety was. It's so I can smell him if I want. Sometimes I do. Today I sniffed it and sighed and then laid down right there, looking at them. I think I am getting kind of lonely.

Mom says Boo was little once. She said that she and dad got him off of an airplane. She said he was from the Bernese Auction Rescue Coalition, which is why he came on an airplane and not in the car like I did when I came from Cape Cod Shibas. That's because Boo was a "rescue", which means they saved him from something. His mom was sick when she was pregnant with him. Mom says Doc suspected this because Boo's teeth were missing lots of enamel, and the easiest reason is that his mom had a lot of antibiotics when she was pregnant or nursing puppies. The drugs are bad for dogs' teeth.

Mom and Boo at Delta Cargo in Windsor Locks, CT

He was missing half of his tail, too. Doc said that sometimes a mother dog that has puppies alone and unsupervised will accidentally chew of a puppy's tail instead of it's umbilical cord. All of the other puppies in his litter had their tails, so that makes sense. He was kind of cute as a baby, I think, although nowhere near as cute as me as a baby. Who could be?

Mom and Kioshi and Boo

She also said that back then he had a sister, named Kioshi. I am going to let it slide that she named me something that sounds so close to that other dog's name. She said Kioshi was an Akita, and a girl. I know what those are because we are related. I am, however, more closely related to the wolf, which makes me much cooler. Mom says having Kioshi first got her ready for me. As if one needs preparation to have someone like me in their life!

Boo was scared and uncomfortable a lot, and it just took them a lot longer to figure it out. I knew. I've known for a long time. Since Boo died I have been very quiet. I don't alert to every sound any more. Mom says I am so easy to manage that it's kind of scary. I don't need to be alert now; there's really no one here needing protection. Mom can handle herself pretty well. Most of the time. Sometimes I have to try and step in, but she keeps reminding me that I don't need to, and frankly it gets old trying to be in charge. It's a lot easier to just let her be the boss.

December 2012

Anyway, now that he is gone I feel much better about the dopey Christmas pictures with the antlers and candy cane headgear. And also about mom and dad bawling all over us at Christmas while trying to pose for pictures.

 Mommy "Not Crying" with Boo and Me

Daddy "Not Crying" with Boo and Me

I even feel pretty good about Boo's last day, when mom gave him my Christmas bone.

She said I could have it after he was gone, and that he wouldn't do much damage to it since he really didn't feel great. She was right. Six months ago there'd have been nothing but a stub after ten minutes. He had it to himself all day, and I had to stay in mom and dad's room because mom didn't want me bugging him, and he barely touched it.

I don't know what will happen next. I kind of like being an only dog. I get to do more stuff because mom doesn't feel so bad leaving Boo behind. This weekend I went for a hike in the woods, dug in the garden with mom, and laid outside while mom and dad had a fire and drank wine. I like it. But it's lonely. A young brother or sister could be outside too, and dig, and hike, and give me someone to play with. Boo hasn't played in a long while. But at the same time, mom says her heart is all torn up, whatever that means, and she isn't sure she's ready to let some new dog chew more holes in it.

She's wrong, and she'll figure that out soon I am sure. She's already let so many dogs chew holes in it that she should know by now - the more holes we make in her heart, the bigger her heart gets. 

And who couldn't use a bigger heart, right?

She Went and Did It!

Mom had talked about having me neutered, and stuff about testicles, and I did not understand what that all meant.
I understand now.

Mom said that because I have allergies and because I am too tall, I should not make babies. I think she put a little too fine a point on things. One day a few weeks ago we met a new vet named Dr. Howell. I liked her office a lot. It has cats. TONS of cats! Everyone was very nice, except that I did get a distemper shot. Dr. Howell does not mind of mom avoids some of my vaccines, but in order for her to neuter me in her office, she required a distemper shot. 

About a week later we went back to visit Dr. Howell again. This time mom left me there with cricket and my quilt. She said she'd be back. I don't know where she went. I do know that when she came back to get me, I looked like this. I don't remember what happened up there. I still like Dr. Howell just fine. When I woke up I had this cone on my head, but I really didn't mind at all. Mom thought I would be completely freaked out by it. I did get her to cut some off, convincing her that I couldn't eat or drink. She had to tape the cut off pieces back onto the hood when I started licking my butt in the middle of the night.

That's when I found out the worst of it. MY NUTS WERE GONE!! GONE. Not there, completely gone!! I moped and acted twitchy for a couple of days just to make sure mom was good and upset. She and dad cleaned my stitches every day very carefully. Dr, Howell wanted me to wear the cone for 14 days. By eight days my stitches were all healed. Mom cut one out at a time over a day and a half to make sure the incision was really healed. Then she took the cone off for a few hours and watched to make sure I did not have a lick-fest. I didn't, so she let me have it off forever.

While I had it on, mom did really mean stuff to me:

Seriously?

Really? Come on, mom!

Things I learned about the cone:

You can catch stuff in it, which makes catching easier. Dad threw my ball and I used the cone to help me get it. Less work, still as much fun!

You have to be careful of the water bowl when you have it on. I toppled it twice. Mom eventually put my food and water on top of a bowl to make it higher and easier for me to eat and drink. 

I look really good in purple tie dye duct tape.

People will feel sorry for you and give you stuff if you look sad when you have the cone on. Totally scored some sweet treats this way!

It's not as bad as people think it is. Mostly, we're dogs and we adjust to anything if we have to. 

LIKE NOT HAVING NUTS!

Life is Good

I love this place. We have a new house and it is amazing! Boo still thinks he is in charge, which is crap. I am. Everyone knows. Except Boo.

 I had duck feet this week. Dried duck feet. It was heavenly.

Momma and I were running 3 miles, three times a week, and now she is broken and I am SO BORED! It stinks. She puts on the skinny black pants, but leaves me here. She says she has to ride, or has to swim. It's all crap. I want to RUN!

A while ago, men came and dug holes and I watched them on Yoshivision. Today different men came and put new windows in the new house. I was worried about my Yoshivision, but it still works. I saw the squirrel through the window and wanted to kill it like always. Mom says I have to wait until tomorrow for a picture with the new windows, but this is the old windows:

I liked that day. A lot happened on Yoshivision then.

I still go to lots of places. When we go to Agway or Tractor Supply I can "be a dog" (says mom), but when I go to Walgreens, CVS, or Rite Aid, I know I have to behave, and I do. Home Depot threw me out, sort of. Mom had seen other dogs in the store, so she brought me. When we got to the door there was a sign that said "No Dogs". She asked, and the man said people were not "supposed" to bring dogs. Mom said we had to follow the rules.
Rules suck. Just saying.
Mom says I may have my testicles taken off soon. I am not sure what that means, but it sounds bad. She says if I had not developed allergies, she might have let me keep them. I don't get the connection, but she does, and she's the boss. I am wondering what this whole testicle thing means. It sounds kind of scary, but I am hoping for the best.

Edited to add: This is the NEW Yoshivision! It is louder, and more fun. I can HEAR the squirrel and the trucks! I LOVE it!

I Love Me.

I am watching them all. I think I am better. And I want to play with everyone. This looks like fun, even without television cameras and everyone wearing their best sensible shoes. I bet I am better than all the dogs. I wonder if mom will bet on me?

Just popped in to share some videos (the embed thing isn't working, but the links should) of me that mom took last night which will show that:

1.) I play well with others.

2.) Daddy is a cheap toy

3.) I am Wikkid Spoiled.

Mom is a sucker, and she KNOWS it!

I am ONE.

I am almost as bad at blogging as my mom is. But this is IMPORTANT!

I had a BIRTHDAY!! It was my first one. I liked it a lot.

Mom made me a cake. It was made with FISH and had cream cheese on top.

I shared some with Boo. Mom made me. I didn't really think he needed any.

And then there was a pile of presents ALL FOR ME! Mel & Boo did not like this part.

But now I just wonder, most of the time, which one should I play with first?